


Tell Me Why When We Fall In Love, All We Wanna Do Is Play it Cool?

by Primadorton



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, M/M, Peter Hale is a shy stuttering nerd, Smut, Soulmate AU, Teen Chris Argent, Teen Peter Hale, Teen!Petopher, The first glow of a werewolf's eyes implies they've found their mate, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:43:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Primadorton/pseuds/Primadorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only Peter Hale, notorious science Nerd of Beacon Hills High School, would have the worst of luck in finding his true mate in popular jock Chris Argent. And only he would have the worst luck in finding it in a drunk Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Why When We Fall In Love, All We Wanna Do Is Play it Cool?

**Author's Note:**

> This may or may not be turned into a series, or it may just remain as a cliffy one-shot. I solely posted this to 1) Get it out of my head because its been swimming in there for a long time and 2) To receive criticism. Please feel free to criticize what you don't like about my writing style, how to improve, etc. It'll be a great help, honestly.

Peter Hale felt awfully out-of-place here. The drunken teenagers, blaring music to his sensitive ears and the smell of adolescent hormones so thick it made Peter cough, was certainly something he thought he'd never experience on a Friday night. The only reason he came here to Katherine Argent's stupid party was because his best friend Isabelle insisted, saying something like you'll get popular this way Petey!

Peter thinks it's actually made his nerd status even worse, if the glares he received before even fully stepping through the doors threshold was anything to go by.

Feeling anxious and wanting to get away from this kind of scenarie, Peter put his Wolfsbane Beer bottle down, took a quick glance in Isabelle's direction (who was still sitting on Greenburg's lap and sticking her tongue down his throat) and headed towards the direction of the stairs. He's certain at least one room would be empty of sex.

He really hopes.

The Argent family was a large pack and required a big house, and just by standing in the hallway Peter could already see seven bedroom doors before the hallway made a left turn, probably hiding even more rooms beyond it.

Peter used his sensitive hearing to figure out which rooms were empty and which ones were occupied (and please believe him when he says he really really didn't want to) and finds that the 5th door seems to be quiet. Opening it slowly and taking a quick peek inside to check if anyone was sleeping in there (because hey he ain't that fucking rude) he was relieved to find the bed empty and untouched. He doesn't think he can handle anymore of that aroma of horny teenagers. It tickled his nose funny.

The first thing he noticed about the bedroom was all of basketball posters plastered over the walls. The wallpaper was a dark blue with black lining, and the furniture came in tones of greys and blues, accented with black accessories. He also noticed the avid amount of plushies that were scattered across the king sized bed. 

Definitely a girls room.

Clicking the door shut behind him, Peter immediately let out a sigh of relief when the door dulled down the sound of the blaring dance music he was never fond of. Trudging over to the end of the bed and sitting down, Peter let out another sigh, but this time one from lack of sleep. He was so tired and just wanted to go home and rest, but he promised Isabelle he'd drive her home, and he didn't wanna ruin her fun just because he wasn't having a good time. 

Just a couple of more hours, he'll only have to endure a couple of more hour--

"Sweeeeet Caro-- hic -lineeeee~" A sing-song voice called from the door he just came through, someone singing completely off-key, "Good times never seemed so-- hic, -- so good."

Before Peter could even muster a be quiet, he looked up and completely froze.

Cause holy shit that's Chris Argent.

Chris. Chris Argent. Chris Argent drunk. Chris Fucking Argent standing before him swaying side to side lazily. Chris the most skilled member of The Beacon Hills High basketball team. Christopher Maximus Argent singing fucking Swe -- Peter had to stop himself from giggling -- Sweet Caroline before his eyes. For all that was holy that was Chris Argent!

(did Peter forget to say that it was Chris Argent?)

and Chris Sex-On-Legs Argent was now rooting through some draws and pulling out a pair of sweats and boxers -- blue, they were blue boxers -- like he owned the place. And yeah okay Peter guesses he actually does but still.

And now he's turning around and staring right at him. And Peter's never felt more self-conscious in his life than he does now, and that's saying something.

There's a silence between them that seems to last an age. Chris staring directly at him and Peter staring directly at the floor.

Peter hears a shuffle, "What are you doing on my bed?" It was slurred and quiet and just completely Chris Argent and Peter ducked his head even further, feeling the heat of a blush forming on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He tried to form a sentence or even a word but the only thing he could think of was bed, Chris' bed, bed, Chris' bed, Chris, Chris, Chris...

"Oh oi aren't you uh, that one that uhm, sits at the front of - hic - my biology class?" Chris asks, rubbing the back of his neck and giving Peter the most calculating gaze he could while plastered out of his head. Peter thought it looked cute.

Peter could only muster a meekly nod and a stuttered yes.

Smooth Hale, smooth.

Chris' face immediately brightened, "Oh Holy shit that's great!"

Chris quickly moved over to the bed, his sweats and underwear long forgotten on the floor, and forced Peter to scooch over to the right a little as he sat beside him.

Peter tried his best to stop his heart stuttering when the heat of Chris' thigh pressed into his own.

aaaaandholyshitthatschris'handonhisthighyepthatstheticker

"You see, I'm really failing biology and there's no way I can let my parents find out, so I really need to start yanoo picking up my act," Chris hushed against Peter's ear, like his parents would come home any minute now and hear him, "And also Coach said if I don't get my grades in check I won't be able to get that basketball scholarship."

"So uh, I," Peter began, but Chris made hushing motions at him until he quieted down. "What do you, what do you want me to do about it?"

Chris scooched even closer if that was possible and his hand moved along with him further up Peter's thigh. 

Chris Argent's hand was literally a toothpick away from rubbing Peter's dick.

"Well you could uh, tutor me yanoo? If you need money that'll be no problem. I'm pretty rich if you can't tell already and I'll happily pay in cash."

"Oh uhm, money is no problem I'd be happy to, I'm happy to help your grades-- grade. I mean grade, I uh I'm pretty sure you are doing really amazing in your other subjects and don't need my help at all, you're very smart, I like listening to you uh when you make points out in class and I--" and oh God is he doing this on purpose because if it was a toothpick away its a fucking splinter away now.

Chris stared at him much longer for Peter's liking with his brows furrowed, and Peter felt his face grow even hotter if that was possible under the scrutinising gaze.

God this was the most embarrassing moment of Peter's life, he could already feel how fucking squishy he was down there. Like hey Chris, don't be alarmed that when I stand up there'll be a wet patch on your bed, it's just my fucking slick! Drunk or not, there was no way Chris couldn't smell his stupid Omega hormones practically keening at the presence of a strong Alpha.

Peter's inner thighs actually ached with the need to present himself.

"So, money ain't a problem?" Chris said, sliding his hand past Peter's crotch and straight to ass. Peter whined.

"Usually people would jump at the opportunity of earning some easy cash. You've got to have some ulterior motive." Chris' hand was now rubbing and pulling at Peter's left cheek.

"Ah... No ulterior motive, I just, I wanna help." Peter said, panting heavily as if he just ran a marathon.

Chris' eyes were half-lid and groggy, his fangs barely able to stay hidden, as his head lay limply in the junction of Peter's shoulder and neck. He made an audible sniff and glanced towards Peter, furrowing his brow.

"You haven't got your glasses on today."

"Uh I, no. My friend Isabelle told me not to, said I'd look uhm cooler," He made quotation mark gestures with the word 'cooler', "It's quite bothersome though... I can't really see a thing without them." Peter also made a mental note in the back of his mind that Chris Argent noticed he wears glasses.

"Hmm," Chris began, sliding his fangs up Peter's neck, jaw and across his lips, before meeting Peter's nose with his own and nuzzling them together. "You look hotter with them on."

Peter glanced upwards from his favourite spot on the carpet and into Chris' eyes. He started to feel this warm fuzzy inside his gut when he could see the affection in them, slick running down his thighs even more. But then,

"Stop it." Peter started...

Peter felt cheated. He felt cheated that Chris Argent would only look at him this way when his system was full of alcohol, he felt cheated that the first time someone looked at him with such a look they had to be drunk. He felt ugly.

Chris ignored him.

"I said stop it... Don't look at me like that. Don't look so loving."

He took Chris' face in his hands, "Please stop."

And so slowly, a time that seemed to last for hours, Chris leaned in and pressed his lips to Peter's.

It was a simple kiss, lips closed and barely brushing, Chris' hands reaching up to cup Peter's face more gently than even he thought he could manage. Peter's eyes widened a little for only a second, before fluttering closed. It was only a minuscule movement, but Chris noticed Peter pressing his lips back nevertheless.

Chris pulled away, sliding his eyes open. Peter's whines making the only noise in the quiet room. Chris then hooked his fingers around the zipper of Peter's jeans and pulled it down, making Peter's breath hitch, easily tugging Peter's jean leaving them wrapped around on his left ankle. Peter thanked the God's he decided to go commando today. Lower body bare and just nearly covered by the top of his Captain America t-shirt, Peter braced his knees as Chris pulled him into his lap.

Chris eased himself back onto the bed, and from there Peter placed his elbows at either side of the blond's head and Chris leaned upwards to take his lips again. It was slightly more open, lips moving this time against one another, still careful and soft.

Chris arched his hips to gently grind his hips against Peter's, feeling the Omega shudder over him. Either Chris was so drunk that he didn't recognize him, or he had finally submitted himself to having feelings for him— Peter liked to think it was the latter, but as he softly molded his mouth to Chris' lips, tasting strong alcohol and the overpowering wolfsbane, he assumed it was the former.

Peter parted breathlessly and sat up, lower bodies hovering mere inches away from each other. As he started to remove his shirt, Chris leaned forward, removing his own shirt as they kissed again. The shirts fell to meet each other on the floor. Their bare chests brushed, heat swimming through both of them as Peter gradually introduced his tongue into the blond's mouth, his Omega instincts taking over and giving him new confidence, and he whimpered when he felt Chris' hand tentatively brush his naked thigh.

Peter found a source of friction in Chris' lap and ground his hips down, trembling at the sensation. He gasped and dipped his head into the crook of the blond's neck, hands still running through his hair and tracing the upper vertebrae, as he peppered the skin with light, fluttery kisses. A short, low noise escaped from deep within Chris' throat when Peter's nimble fingers made quick work of his belt and pants. The metallic clinks echoed in the room, silent save for all the small moans.

As soon as the pants came off, Chris gently coaxed Peter's back to the bed, crawling over him and capturing his lips again. He arched into Chris' light, uncharacteristic caresses, until Peter felt as though his skin were pleasantly burning.

Breath escaping him, he tore their lips apart and swallowed, tipping his head back into the pillows as Chris preoccupied himself with Peter's collar-bone. The bright blond tips of his tresses tortuously tickled the Omega's neck, eliciting a soft whine. He gripped the sheets behind his head and rolled his lower body into Peter's, coercing him to another point of focus.

The minute the blond's fingers closed around the throbbing heat of his cock, Peter shuddered with a whimper and words failed him. When Chris' grip than twisted down the swollen length only to tug back up quickly, Peter saw white. Before he even registered it, the Hale's trembling hands had moved to either side of his body, clutching desperate fistfuls of the soft sheets beneath him.

'He's, my ... oh shit, hand feels so ... stop. Can't ...'

Peter stretched his arm around awkwardly to his backside and pushed a finger into his own entrance, his legs wide, the slick providing lubrication. But before he could do much more, Chris removed his hands from his current project and slapped Peter's hand away with a growl and took over, pressing a finger inside.

"Your pussy is so perfect."

"Don't- Don't call it that…" Peter felt his breath quickening and growing louder as his mind reeled from the feeling of Chris' fingers gingerly spreading him open. Soft moist lips found his chest and sucked until he left a hickey. With his hand still coated in his own slick, Peter palmed Chris' erection and stroked tenderly, causing the man above him to moan against his skin and remove his fingers with a wet sound.

"Ah.. why? It's wet like one."

As Chris pressed the head of his arousal to Peter's opening, the Omega's breath hitched and he closed his eyes.

"Christopher…"

Suddenly Peter's eyes snapped shut and a moan slipped forth as Chris' entire weight forged onto his slick dip then breached it quickly. Both tanned hands twitched then savagely fisted the bed sheets in a white knuckled grip. Peter gasped, his trembling lips parted as unfocused blue eyes shot open. This was happening ... this was really fucking happening.

With his cock an inch deep, Chris shuddered above the stunned raven with a throaty moan; his own fingers digging harshly into Peter's thighs as thoughts and need and sensation swamped the Alpha's mind. His pelvis rolled forward hungrily and the solid heat of his cock ran up against Peter's walls as it filled him. Peter drew in a trembling breath when the movement stopped, only to be replaced by a delicious throbbing as his walls stretched to accommodate the thick intrusion. Chris closed his eyes and curved over Peter with a ragged groan, his heart was pounding so wildly in his chest that it thumped strong against the Hale's chest. 

"God... I think I'm gonna have a heart attack.." Chris rasped breathlessly against Peter's nape, dragging his lips across the surface of the Hale's neck as his hands coast soothingly up then back down Peter's ribs. " ... you're so fucking hot."

"Ha!" Peter gasped vocally as Chris' hands moved to grab the backs of his thighs, pushing his legs down further and hooking one over his shoulder. The motion sunk Chris even deeper into him, and Peter cried out again, pulling a little on Chris' blond locks and bucking his hips. Peter whimpered as Chris began to move faster, growling and snapping his teeth above him. The bed began to creek a little under their weight, protesting quietly. But Chris was still going at a painfully slow pace, and he wished he could tell Chris that he didn't have to worry about breaking him.

Chris drew his hips away carefully then slowly sank back in with an indulgent moan. The angle caused his head to prod against the sensitive gland of nerves inside Peter and the brunette cried out loudly as his whole body shuddered in equal parts of surprise.

Peter gasped a quiet "there" suddenly, mouth hanging wide open.

The rational Peter not high on hormones and instinct would be running away by now in shame.

Chris bit his bottom lip hard and pulled out, only to thrust inside again in the same way, earning another pleasured moan for his efforts. Chris finally opened his eyes and steeled himself to see a look of loathing awaiting him on the Peter's face ... But he was shocked to instead find a panting Peter looking up with both confusion and an incredible warmth. Chris inhaled sharply and as his expression twitched. Jesus, what on earth was this feeling? It was as if his heart was about to give out. 

Peter watched the blond's silent struggle and when blue eyes snapped shut and Chris began to pull out, Peter whined and caught him; locking his legs tight around his waist just before Chris could slip away. Logic and reason told Peter to let him go.... to put this all behind him... But Peter's innerwolf couldn't allow it. He needed to know what lurked inside Chris' mind... Wanted to know if there was just an inkling; a speckle of fee... why.

At the feel of Peter's legs anchoring him, Chris' eyes blinked open. He hissed softly when Peter thighs twined even tighter, forcing half of his length to slip back inside the clutching heat which he'd just tried to escape. Chris shivered and looked down into Peter's blue eyes helplessly, cornflower blue against ice blue. As they stared at each other for that breathless second, their gaze screamed out what neither could manage to say. In heed of that call, Chris passionately and savagely slammed his cock all the way back inside Peter with a husky moan. The Omega's neck arched back violently; eyes snapping with a surprised gasp at the sensation of being so thoroughly filled. The struggle to understand was all but lost. Replaced by a shared acceptance of the fact that this moment ... whatever its causes... They simply didn't care.

Peter nipped at Chris' jaw at both the continuous pumps inside him. The Hale's hands quickly moved to clutch harshly at Chris' forearms on either side of his torso, his grip leaving pale streaks on olive skin. He felt lost, and he wasn't the only one ... Chris was equally lost to the new and consuming clash of their bodies and tongues. Chris pulled back to nip harshly at Peter's bottom lip back with a growl and a shiver ran through his core as Peter's walls tightened around his throbbing length, indicating the Hale's pleasure.

"Fuck... you feel so good," Chris moaned against Peter's lips as he thrusted even deeper into Peter's unexpected body. One hand rose from its tight grip of the sheets to tug the blonds hair as Chris kissed Peter again, speaking each harsh kiss. "You feel ... so fucking ... good."

Each deep plunge was powerful and lingering. Chris then let his weight fall onto his pup, using the power of his hips to bold each deep thrust. Peter gave a weak mew at both the Argent's increased heaviness atop him and the flesh contact which caused his dick to throb hungrily in its new confined space. 

"Please!" Peter moaned out at a particularly savage slam.

A shine of sweat shined all over Peter's body. Peter could feel Chris' own exertions mixing in with his own and leaving a lingering smell on his skin, enveloping his cock in a sweat slicked grind of stomachs that made him want to sob in rapture as the mattress springs creaked and groaned beneath the pair. Jesus. 

"Christopher please, God, please ..." Peter rasped deliriously as if he was in some ritual, his lids growing heavier and breathing failing him.

The Omega grasped tight at the pillow above his head in an attempt to anchor himself, one cheek pressed into the messy sheets as Peter's rebellious hips began to rock up into Chris' delicious thrusts all on their own accord. The need to cum was simply too powerful, and so Peter finally gave in to the raging current. His clutching right-hand released the pillow, forcing its way in between their bodies to wrap shaky fingers around his own cock, stroking the length frantically.

"Christopher ... you're gonna make me cum ... oh Jesus Christ, you're gonna make me fucking cum!" 

Peter scared even himself when his innerwolf came out to play. No way he would say such things when in his rational mind.

Peter's head slammed back to the mattress and his back bowed upwards as he came, eyes squeezed shut, his other hand clutching harshly onto the pillow. Overwhelming heat drenched Peter's abdomen as he released, coating dewy skin in spurts and across his chest. 

Driven towards his own edge by the Peter's climax, Chris pressed burning kisses to the brunette's neck as his own hips slammed forward even faster. Drilling his length into the clutching vise of Peter's body as the Argent shook and writhed beneath him with gruff keening cries. 

"not ... s-so ... hard." Peter protested weakly as his climax finally began to ebb away and the discomfort of being penetrated was no longer covered up by heady pleasure. But Chris couldn't stop, he was completely entrenched in rabid desire.

"Just ... let me cum ..." He growled, hips pounding forward relentlessly, feverish and wild. "I'm almost ... ah ..."

"Ahh god ..." Chris moaned hotly, "God, why does it feel like this ..." The blond hissed hoarsely, confounded by the intensity of the staggering pleasure crashing through his body. "Fuck!"

Suddenly Chris' eyes glown a fiery red and Peter's own returned the favour in honey gold and Peter lost his breath.

Every muscle in Chris' powerful lean frame seemed to cramp at the same moment and lunge forward. With a gasping cry, thick heat rushed up through his throbbing length, then exploded. He could feel his dick begin to knot and Peter whined when he felt his rim stretch. A soft sated whine escaped parted lips, carried on a shallow sigh and Chris collapsed atop Peter utterly depleted. Neither knew how much time passed like that, bodies spent and tangled together. 

It was only after Chris' knot had settled and he unwound his legs, the blond lying listlessly asleep on top of him, that Peter realized he had clung to Chris for dear life.

A moment passed, and though the twisted sheets around his frame, and the throbbing pain in his backside the were solid proof that his little rendezvous with Chris hadn't been a figment of a dream... Peter felt empty. Only he would find his true mate in a drunken Chris Argent, who probably won't even remember his own eyes glowing to his.

Peter had to leave. He needed his pack, he needed to get Isabelle and get the hell out of here.

Getting out of bed as quickly as possible and ignoring the pain in his backside that was slowly dulling down to due his werewolf healing he gathered his clothes and put them on, not bothering in tucking in his shirt or making sure his socks were on the right way.

Leaving the room quietly as possible, he was met with the sound of dance music, telling him that the party was still going despite it feeling like he was with Chris for hours on end. Descending down the stairs he was instantly met with some stares and his paranoia took over.

They can smell it can't they. They can smell how much of a whore he just was. They can smell Chris Argent all over him and his own slick, God they can probably even smell Chris'...

"Petey!" A yell snapped him out of his negative thoughts.

"Izzy... Izzy we have to go now, come on!" Peter reached for Izzy's wrist and dragged her out of the door towards the car, ignoring her protests of how the party wasn't even over yet. He needed his pack, he needed to sleep, he needed a goddamn good cry.

Practically shoving Isabelle into the passenger's side, he got into his own seat and buckled his belt, turning the keys and revving the engine to life. He pointly ignored Isabelle's audible sniff and shocked glance and started to drive to Izzy's home.

Dear God Talia help him.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I mention that its Chris Argent?


End file.
